Author: Arthur Seymour John Tessimond

Arthur Seymour John Tessimond (1902 -1962) was an English poet. He had a tumultuous childhood, ran from boarding school, went to work, somehow attended the University of Liverpool, avoided service in WWI and then discovered that he is unfit for military service after he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, which in those days was known as manic depression. A.S. Tessimond is a wonderful poet though maybe somewhat underappreciated poet. He died from in 1962 from a brain haemorrhage.

Wet City Night

Wet City Night by A. S. J. Tessimond Light drunkenly reels into shadow; Blurs, slurs uneasily; Slides off the eyeballs: The segments shatter. Tree-branches cut arc-light in ragged Fluttering wet strips. The cup of the sky-sign is filled too full; It slushes wine over. The street-lamps dance a tarentella And zigzag down the street: They […]

Unlyric Love Song

Unlyric Love Song by A. S. J. Tessimond It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and […]

Tube Station

Tube Station by A. S. J. Tessimond The tube lift mounts, sap in a stem, And blossoms its load, a black, untidy rose. The fountain of the escalator curls at the crest, breaks and scatters A winnow of men, a sickle of dark spray. Poetry Monster – Home A few random poems: [arpw limit=”15″] External […]

To Be Blind

To Be Blind by A. S. J. Tessimond Is it sounds converging, Sounds nearing, Infringement, impingement, Impact, contact With surfaces of the sounds Or surfaces without the sounds: Diagrams, skeletal, strange? Is it winds curling round invisible corners? Polyphony of perfumes? Antennae discovering an axis, erecting the architecture of a world? Is it orchestration of […]

The Man In The Bowler Hat

The Man In The Bowler Hat by A. S. J. Tessimond I am the unnoticed, the unnoticable man: The man who sat on your right in the morning train: The man who looked through like a windowpane: The man who was the colour of the carriage, the colour of the mounting Morning pipe smoke. I […]

the_children_look_at_the_parents.html

The Children Look At The Parents by A. S. J. Tessimond We being so hidden from those who Have quietly borne and fed us, How can we answer civilly Their innocent invitations? How can we say “we see you As but-for-God’s-grace-ourselves, as Our caricatures (we yours), with Time’s telescope between us”? How can we say […]

The British

The British by A. S. J. Tessimond We are a people living in shells and moving Crablike; reticent, awkward, deeply suspicious; Watching the world from a corner of half-closed eyelids, Afraid lest someone show that he hates or loves us, Afraid lest someone weep in the railway train. We are coiled and clenched like a […]

symphony_in_red.html

Symphony In Red by A. S. J. Tessimond Within the church The solemn priests advance, And the sunlight, stained by the heavy windows, Dyes a yet richer red the scarlet banners And the scarlet robes of the young boys that bear them, And the thoughts of one of these are far away, With carmined lips […]

seaport.html

Seaport by A. S. J. Tessimond Green sea-tarnished copper And sea-tarnished gold Of cupolas. Sea-runnelled streets Channelled by salt air That wears the white stone. The sunlight-filled cistern Of a dry-dock. Square shadows. Sun-slatted smoke above meticulous stooping of cranes. Water pressed up by ships’ prows Going, coming. City dust turned Back by the sea-wind’s […]

sea.html

Sea by A. S. J. Tessimond 1 (Windless Summer) Between the glass panes of the sea are pressed Patterns of fronds, and the bronze tracks of fishes. 2 (Winter) Foam-ropes lasso the seal-black shiny rocks, Noosing, slipping and noosing again for ever. 3 (Windy Summer) Over-sea going, under returning, meet And make a wheel, a […]

quickstep.html

Quickstep by A. S. J. Tessimond Acknowledge the drum’s whisper. Yield to its velvet Nudge. Cut a slow air- Curve. Then dip (hip to hip): Sway, swing, pedantically Poise. Now recover, Converting the coda To prelude of sway-swing- Recover. Acknowledge The drum-crack’s alacrity; Acrid exactitude – Catch it, then slacken, Then catch as cat catches […]

polyphony_in_a_cathedral.html

Polyphony In A Cathedral by A. S. J. Tessimond Music curls In the stone shells Of the arches, and rings Their stone bells. Music lips Each cold groove Of parabolas’ laced Warp and woof, And lingers round nodes Of the ribbed roof Chords open Their flowers among The stone flowers; blossom; Stalkless hang. Poetry Monster […]

one_almost_might.html

One Almost Might by A. S. J. Tessimond Wouldn’t you say, Wouldn’t you say: one day, With a little more time or a little more patience, one might Disentangle for separate, deliberate, slow delight One of the moment’s hundred strands, unfray Beginnings from endings, this from that, survey Say a square inch of the ground […]

nursery_rhyme_for_a_twenty_first_birthday.html

Nursery Rhyme For A Twenty-First Birthday by A. S. J. Tessimond You cannot see the walls that divide your hand From his or hers or mine when you think you touch it. You cannot see the walls because they are glass, And glass is nothing until you try to pass it. Beat on it if […]

not_love_perhaps.html

Not Love Perhaps by A. S. J. Tessimond This is not Love, perhaps, Love that lays down its life, that many waters cannot quench, nor the floods drown, But something written in lighter ink, said in a lower tone, something, perhaps, especially our own. A need, at times, to be together and talk, And then […]

night_piece.html

Night Piece by A. S. J. Tessimond Climb, claim your shelf-room, far Packed from inquisitive moon And cold contagious stars. Lean out, but look no longer, No further, than to stir Night with extended finger. Now fill the box with light, Flood full the shining block, Masonry against night. Let window, curtain, blind Soft-sieve and […]

never.html

Never by A. S. J. Tessimond Suddenly, desperately I thought, “No, never In millions of minutes Can I for one second Calm-leaving my own self Like clothes on a chair-back And quietly opening The door of one house (No, not one of all millions) Of blood, flesh and brain, Climb the nerve-stair and look From […]

music.html

Music by A. S. J. Tessimond This shape without space, This pattern without stuff, This stream without dimension Surrounds us, flows through us, But leaves no mark. This message without meaning, These tears without eyes This laughter without lips Speaks to us but does not Disclose its clue. These waves without sea Surge over us, […]

meeting.html

Meeting by A. S. J. Tessimond Dogs take new friends abruptly and by smell, Cats’ meetings are neat, tactual, caressive. Monkeys exchange their fleas before they speak. Snakes, no doubt, coil by coil reach mutual knowledge. We then, at first encounter, should be silent; Not court the cortex but the epidermis; Not work from inside […]

last_word_to_childhood.html

Last Word To Childhood by A. S. J. Tessimond Ice-cold fear has slowly decreased As my bones have grown, my height increased. Though I shiver in snow of dreams, I shall never Freeze again in a noonday terror. I shall never break, my sinews crumble As God-the-headmaster’s fingers fumble At the other side of unopening […]

june_sick_room.html

June Sick Room by A. S. J. Tessimond The birds’ shrill fluting Beats on the pink blind, Pierces the pink blind At whose edge fumble the sun’s Fingers till one obtrudes And stirs the thick motes. The room is a close box of pink warmth. The minutes click. A man picks across the street With […]

houses.html

Houses by A. S. J. Tessimond People who are afraid of themselves Multiply themselves into families And so divide themselves And so become less afraid. People who might have to go out Into clanging strangers’ laughter, Crowd under roofs, make compacts To no more than smile at each other. People who might meet their own […]

flight_of_stairs.html

Flight Of Stairs by A. S. J. Tessimond Stairs fly as straight as hawks; Or else in spirals, curve out of curve, pausing At a ledge to poise their wings before relaunching. Stairs sway at the height of their flight Like a melody in Tristan; Or swoop to the ground with glad spread of their […]

epitaph_on_a_disturber_of_his_times.html

Epitaph On A Disturber Of His Times by A. S. J. Tessimond We expected the violin’s finger on the upturned nerve; Its importunate cry, too laxly curved: And you drew us an oboe-outline, clean and acute; Unadorned statement, accurately carved. We expected the screen, the background for reverie Which cloudforms usefully weave: And you built […]

epitaph_for_our_children.html

Epitaph For Our Children by A. S. J. Tessimond Blame us for these who were cradled and rocked in our chaos; Watching our sidelong watching, fearing our fear; Playing their blind-man’s-bluff in our gutted mansions, Their follow-my-leader on a stair that ended in air. Poetry Monster – Home A few random poems: [arpw limit=”15″] External […]

cats.html

Cats by A. S. J. Tessimond Cats no less liquid than their shadows Offer no angles to the wind. They slip, diminished, neat through loopholes Less than themselves; will not be pinned To rules or routes for journeys; counter Attack with non-resistance; twist Enticing through the curving fingers And leave an angered empty fist. They […]

Attack On The Ad-Man

Attack On The Ad-Man by A. S. J. Tessimond This trumpeter of nothingness, employed To keep our reason dull and null and void. This man of wind and froth and flux will sell The wares of any who reward him well. Praising whatever he is paid to praise, He hunts for ever-newer, smarter ways […]

polyphony_in_a_cathedral.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Polyphony In A Cathedral by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Polyphony In A Cathedral/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Music curlsbr /> In the stone shellsbr /> Of the arches, and ringsbr /> Their stone bells./p> p>Music lipsbr /> Each cold groovebr /> […]

one_almost_might.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>One Almost Might by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>One Almost Might/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Wouldn’t you say,br /> Wouldn’t you say: one day,br /> With a little more time or a little more patience, one mightbr /> Disentangle for separate, […]

nursery_rhyme_for_a_twenty_first_birthday.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Nursery Rhyme For A Twenty-First Birthday by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Nursery Rhyme For A Twenty-First Birthday/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>You cannot see the walls that divide your handbr /> From his or hers or mine when you think you […]

Not Love Perhaps

This is not Love perhaps – Love that lays down Its life, that many waters cannot quench, nor the floods drown, – But something written in lighter ink, said in a lower tone; Something perhaps especially our own: A need at times to be together and talk – And then the finding we […]

night_piece.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Night Piece by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Night Piece/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Climb, claim your shelf-room, farbr /> Packed from inquisitive moonbr /> And cold contagious stars./p> p>Lean out, but look no longer,br /> No further, than to stirbr /> […]

never.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Never by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Never/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Suddenly, desperatelybr /> I thought, “No, neverbr /> In millions of minutesbr /> Can I for one secondbr /> Calm-leaving my own selfbr /> Like clothes on a chair-backbr /> […]

music.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Music by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Music/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>This shape without space,br /> This pattern without stuff,br /> This stream without dimensionbr /> Surrounds us, flows through us,br /> But leaves no mark./p> p>This message without meaning,br /> […]

meeting.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Meeting by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Meeting/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Dogs take new friends abruptly and by smell,br /> Cats’ meetings are neat, tactual, caressive.br /> Monkeys exchange their fleas before they speak.br /> Snakes, no doubt, coil by coil […]

last_word_to_childhood.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Last Word To Childhood by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Last Word To Childhood/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Ice-cold fear has slowly decreasedbr /> As my bones have grown, my height increased.br /> Though I shiver in snow of dreams, I shall […]

june_sick_room.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>June Sick Room by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>June Sick Room/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>The birds’ shrill flutingbr /> Beats on the pink blind,br /> Pierces the pink blindbr /> At whose edge fumble the sun’sbr /> Fingers till one […]

houses.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Houses by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Houses/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>People who are afraid of themselvesbr /> Multiply themselves into familiesbr /> And so divide themselvesbr /> And so become less afraid./p> p>People who might have to go outbr /> […]

flight_of_stairs.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Flight Of Stairs by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Flight Of Stairs/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Stairs fly as straight as hawks;br /> Or else in spirals, curve out of curve, pausingbr /> At a ledge to poise their wings before relaunching.br […]

epitaph_on_a_disturber_of_his_times.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Epitaph On A Disturber Of His Times by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Epitaph On A Disturber Of His Times/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>We expected the violin’s finger on the upturned nerve;br /> Its importunate cry, too laxly curved:br /> And […]